| Subject: Re: The script continues |
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Date Posted: 16:53:40 07/23/02 Tue
In reply to:
DWCM
's message, "Re: The script continues" on 03:14:00 07/19/02 Fri
>
>EXT. STREET - DAY
>
>GREG
>Well that was exceedingly pointless.
>
>Tim smacks Greg.
>
>TIM
>Egghead.
>
>GREG
>That's it.
>
>Greg and Tim begin fighting. They begin rolling
>around in a big dust cloud.
>
>When they are done, the dust clears and blood soaks
>their mouths.
>
>Tim looks fucking great! He even has a twinkly gold
>tooth in his mouth now.
>
>TIM
>See? It works everytime.
>
>GREG
>Shit. Let's go then!
>
>TIM
>Yeah we don't wanna be LATE, now do we?
>
>GREG
>Hahahahahaha. You crack me up.
>
>TIM
>You're too good. Come on friend!
>
>Tim extends a hand and helps Greg up. The two run.
>But where are they going and what on earth could they
>be getting all dressed up for?
Int. Back room of bar. We see out friends, Tim, Greg, Chris Taylor, Hank and Joel standing around a poker table. They have poker chips and cards. Hank and Joelare smoking cigars. Chris is trying to smoke a cigar, but it't not going well for him. His cigar is lit in the middle and it's only a matter of time before it falls apart. "Why are they standing instead of sitting?" you ask. Because! They're half man/half dog. They are built like centaurs, but with dog bottoms. On their human half they wear clothing that you would se from the movie "The Sting." That means it's from the 1470's. Hank is dealing. Chris has the most expressive tail. Tim and greg have tails that would lead you to believe that they care about nothing. Their tails perk up when they insult someone, but not much even then.
There's lots of overlap in the dialog.
Chris (his tail is wagging furiously)
Hey guyth, I'm tho happy you athked me to partithipate in your game today. And thankth for letting my friendth play.
Tim
Don't speak for me...
Greg
Yeah, I could really care less.
Hank
Very gracious, your friends.
Joel
Yeah, don't expect another invitation guys.
Tim
Whatever, if you guys had any friends you wouldn't've wanted us to play today.
Hank laughs it off, but we can see that his tail is hanging slightly.
Chris
Come on guyth, thith will be fun.
Greg
fun for you fatstuff.
Chris (tail wagging)
You're right about that!
Hank is done dealing now.
Joel
Enough chatter. Let's play.
Joel starts the betting.
Joel
five
Chris (tail swaying slowly and cautiously)
Ok. Tho how do you play thith game again?
Hank
Jesus Christ.
Joel
you'll pick it up as we go. Do you see my five?
Chris
Ith thith a trick quethtion? It'th right there.
(He points at Joel's chip.)
Hank
Jesus Christ.
Joel
(Sighs) I mean...
Greg picks up a chip from Chris's pile.
Greg
He sees it.
greg looks at Chris's hand
Greg
In fact, he raises you 5.
Chris
(Chuckling) Yeah, I raithe you - come up to my level!
Joel & Hank
Shut up
Hank
Don't make jokes.
Greg
I see the 10
Joel (to Chris)
You're funnier when you don't talk.
Chris
What does that mean?
Tim throws in his ten
Joel
It means you're face is a joke...
Tim (to Joel)
What's your name again?
Hank blows in Chris's face. Chris Growls.
Joel
Joel. How many times do I have to tell you?
Tim
I guess you'll have to keep telline me until you become interesting enough to remember.
Joel
What's your problem?
Tim
My problem is that you invite me to your dumbass game but you don't seem to care about it.
Joel
What?
Greg
He means that your up fuckhead.
Tim
My other problem is that you're a fuckhead...
Greg
Play THE GAME!
(Everyone's tail is at attention)
Joel throws in his ten
Joel
There.
Hank throws in his five
Greg (to hank)
Your hands are like a girl's
Hank ignores the last comment.
Hank
How many do you need?
Chris looks confused. His head tilts to the side. Joel sighs. Chris and hank stare at eachother.
Hank
How many?
Chris
Well, I have five cardth now. How many thould I have?
Joel
Holy SHIT You'RE STUPID!
Tim
Fuck you...(tries to recall joel's name)
Greg
Joel
Tim
Fuck you, Joel.
Chris
It'th ok Tim, that'th jutht the way thethe guyth are.
Joel
What's that supposed to mean
Greg
It means your a born fuckhead.
Hank
HOW MANY CARDS DO YOU NEED?
Greg studies Chris's hand for a few seconds
Tim
They're just assholes - they're just like THAT!
Joel
Let's play the game
Tim (mocking joel)
Let's play the game.
Greg
He wants two
greg pulls two cards from Chris's hand and throws them down. Chris picks up his two new cards.
Greg
three
Chris (whispering to greg and showing his cards to greg)
Ith thith good?
Greg
Yeah, it's a prety good hand.
As greg adjusts his cards chris says his next line to himself.
Chris
Thith one'th alright. (he looks at his right hand - it's fat and somewhat dirty.)
But thith one'th in pretty thorry condithon. (He looks at his left hand which seems to be covered in mud with grass stuck to it.)
Joel
What's that smell?
Hank
Jesus Christ, keep that hand (pointing at Chris's dirty hand) under the table.
Tim
Shut the fuck up and give me three
(as he adjusts his cards) You fucking moron.
Joel
One.
Hank
I'll take two.
Greg
Did we ask? Shut the fuck up.
Chris scratches his ear with his hind leg.
Joel's cell phone phone rings.
Joel
Hold on. I have to answer that.
Joel pulls out a Mouth pice and earpiece from one of those 40's phones. He walks away. More like he jumps away in the many a dog moves around when it's standing on its hind legs.
Tim (to hank)
Your friend's an assface.
Greg (to hank)
So are you
Tim and greg spend the next thirty seconds tearing into hank and his friend. Hank clearly wants to sit this argument out now thatr his friend is away.
Joel comes back.
Joel
Alright
Tim
Who was that?
Joel
Oh, it was my...
Tim (chuckling)
Oh, wait, i don't really give a shit.
(To greg) He thought I gave a shit.
Greg
Hey, Tim, I've got a call. (Greg mimes a phone) What's that Mr. President, you have a message from the pope? These two guys are fuckheads? Okay, thatnks Mr. President, sir.
Tim
Who was that?
Hank
Let's just play...
Tim
SHUT THE FUCK UP! So, who was that?
Greg
It was the president. Apparently the pope thinks these guys are fuckheads!
Tim
Wow! They must be supreme fuckheads then!
Hank
Alright. I'm gonna bet five.
Long pause as chris wags his tail oblivious to his role in the game.
Hank
Chris, are you in?
Chris tilts his head again.
greg
He's in and he raises you ten.
Greg
I'm in
Tim
I'm in
Joel
I'll see the 20 and I'll raise you thirty (he smirks)
Hank
I'm out.
Again chris stands and wags obliviously.
greg
He's in.
Chris
Oh, wait, that'th a lot of money.
Joel
Too rich for your fat blood, Chris?
Tim
Don't worry, Chris, he's bluffing, look at his tail.
Joel's tail hangs between his legs.
Joel
Hey, guys, you're not supposed to look at my tail.
Tim
Shut the fuck up, crybaby
Greg
You're tail's like a cat's
Chris covers his mouth and chuckles.
Joel
What are you laughing about, fatty.
Tim
Shut the fuck up.
Greg
I'm out.
Tim
So am I
Joel
I've got a pair of queens
Chris stares off. Greg shows Chris's hand.
Greg (whispering to Chris)
Say "full House"
Chris
Full Houth?
Joel
Shit
Greg (to joel)
Uh-oh, fuckhead. Better luck next time.
Tim
There won't be a next time
Tim punches Joel in the face.
Tim
I've had enough of this shit. Just give us your money.
Hank (tail between his legs)
Wha?
Ext. Outside of the bar. Greg and Tim and Chris walk away with Hank's and Joel's money.
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